In the midst of running away from the Order meeting, I stopped halfway up the stairs when I heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione's voices coming from Ron's bedroom. I walked over to the wall and pressed my cheek against it, listening in to what was being said.
"FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON —" Harry exploded.
"We wanted to-"
"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER-"
"Harry, we're really sorry!" Hermione pleaded, her voice breaking. Poor kids, I thought. I understood why Harry was upset – after all, he was the one who saw You-Know-Who return and had to deal with disbelief from all corners of the wizarding world – but I also felt bad for Ron and Hermione, who were merely following Dumbledore's orders in not contacting him.
They went back and forth for a while like that, until I heard my name mentioned.
"So what have you two been doing, if you're not allowed in meetings? Harry asked accusingly. "You said you'd been busy."
"We have," Hermione said tentatively. "We've been decontaminating this house, it's been empty for ages. We've also been spending quite a bit of time with Cassie, she and Fred are back together now-"
"You mean Malfoy's sister?" he snapped.
Before I could fling the door open and give Harry what-for, I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.
"Cassie, Severus is gone now," Remus said gently, gesturing back toward the stairs. "Dumbledore, and the rest of the Order, would like to speak to you in the kitchen."
I gulped, nodded, then headed toward the stairs, resigned to my fate. When I reached the bottom and headed into the kitchen, everyone was where I'd left them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were milling about the kitchen preparing dinner, trying to look as though they weren't paying attention.
"Er, hi," I said meekly, trying my best to look guilty. "I really am sorry about that, I just-"
"Miss Malfoy, please have a seat," Dumbledore said gently, a thin smile forming on his face. I complied, taking my place between Tonks and Bill once more.
"Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore began. "When you join the Order of the Phoenix, you are forced to trust people that you would never dream of otherwise trusting. People you don't think you could ever trust. I take it Severus Snape is one of those people for you?"
I nodded.
"Professor, I understand the trust aspect of this whole operation, but I find it incredibly hard to believe that he's not feeding information –"
"To your father?" he finished. "Miss Malfoy, I meant it when I said Severus is a spy for our cause at a great personal cost. He cannot reveal your location to anyone, not ever your father. Whatever he has told Lucius – if he has told him anything, which I do not believe he has – would be an entirely false trail."
I just sat there, taking in what I was hearing. As much as I wanted to counter Dumbledore, I didn't dare.
"Miss Malfoy, in times like these, we have no choice but to trust one another. We have no choice than to set our differences aside and trust. Otherwise this organization will collapse and the opposition will win. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I nodded. I really wanted to believe him, but I didn't. Snape had given me no reason to believe that he wouldn't sell me out to my father, and Dumbledore hadn't convinced me of why I should just blindly trust him, or anyone in the Order, without questioning it. Thankfully, people were beginning to disperse and leave before dinner, so now was probably the time for me to take my leave for the evening, a bottle of Ogden's and a new book waiting for me in my room.
Right when I was about to head back upstairs, Bill Weasley stopped me in my tracks.
"Cass, after you'd left, Dumbledore mentioned recruiting as many international wizards to the Order as possible, and I think you might know one of our newest recruits. Charlie actually met her in Romania."
I gave him a look, taken aback.
"I don't know anyone in Romania, Bill."
"Well, she's not from Romania, but she's a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, that's why she ended up there. Is Annabelle Greengrass still a friend of yours?"
My jaw dropped. I reached out to grab Bill's arm to steady myself at the news. I hadn't heard from Belle in weeks, almost months, and now I was hearing that she'd joined the Order?
"Yes! Yes, she is! How is she? You're going to have to explain this all to me, last I heard she was in Rome!"
"She was, but Gringotts moves Curse-Breakers around pretty frequently," he continued. "Apparently she went from Rome to some tombs in Romania, near the dragon sanctuary where Charlie works.. They met in a pub one night, one thing led to another-"
"Bill, Belle's not really into-"
"Not that kind of 'one thing led to another'! She found out he was a Weasley, told him she was a friend of yours, and he persuaded her to join the Order. The Greengrass family is one of the few that actually believes You-Know-Who has returned, probably because your friend was friends with Cedric Diggory. Charlie says she said something about 'I'll be damned if I let the greatest dark wizard of all time anywhere near my best friend'?"
I laughed out loud at that. I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with excitement and disbelief that Belle and I managed to join the same secret society from two different countries. It gave me peace to know that we were on the same side of this war.
"Bill, that's really brilliant," I said, still shaking my head. "Do you know if they're coming back to London any time soon?"
"I doubt it, Cass," he said with a shrug. "Charlie's pretty much based in Romania and if I had to guess, Annabelle will travel until Gringotts says she can't anymore. I wouldn't count on seeing either of them any time soon."
I nodded, feeling slightly deflated. Being around Fred and Tonks and Sirius and Remus most days was lovely, but it would've been nice to know my best friend was nearby, too.
"Right, of course. You'll let me know if you hear anything more about Belle, won't you?"
Bill nodded, then slipped out the door. After I shut the door behind them, I turned down the hallway to see Harr, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny all filing into the kitchen, the smell of soup, bread, and the sweetness of butterbeer overcoming my senses. I decided right then and there that I'd be staying for dinner.
Right as I attempted to cross the threshold, my foot collided with something hard, the loud, dull bang! of a pewter cauldron filling the hall. All of a sudden, Mrs. Weasley whipped around, her face hard and her cheeks red.
"For Merlin's sake, I told you to move those out of the hall, Mundungus!" she snapped at a now-awake Mundungus Fletcher, whose head had been hanging low for as long as I was in the kitchen.
"Right, sorry Molly," he muttered, attempting to stand up, but wobbling, the stench of stale bread and wine emanating from his tattered overcoat.
"You selling, Dung?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow at the dozen cauldrons that were now scattered in the hall. "I'm in need of a new cauldron, to be quite honest."
His sallow face lit up behind his stringy ginger hair.
"For you, lovely? Only-"
"MUNDUNGUS!" Mrs. Weasley snapped again, hands on her hips. Mundungus shrugged and hurried away, clearly not wanting to hear any more from Mrs. Weasley.
"Those are stolen goods," she explained. "Goods that he abandoned his post for the night Harry got attacked."
It made sense now – Dumbledore's anger, the trying to talk him down. Mundungus was supposed to be following Harry on Wednesday. He left, the Dementors came, and here we were.
As the Weasley kids bustled around to help Mrs. Weasley, Harry took a tentative seat next to me. I gave him a small smile, which he didn't return. Across from us, Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, had jumped up from his spot on the floor and into Sirius's lap, happily accepting the scratches behind the ears that Sirius was now giving him.
"Had a good summer so far?" Sirius asked casually.
"No, it's been lousy," said Harry flatly.
A small grin crossed Sirius's face. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"Don't know what you're complaining about, myself."
"What?" said Harry and I in unison.
"Personally, I'd have welcomed a dementor attack," he said simply. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely."
"Oh, do you considering hanging out with me monotony?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Another grin spread across his face.
"Not quite," he said with a wink, turning back to Harry. "But at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights. I've been stuck inside for a month."
"How come?" asked Harry, frowning.
"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels."
"Really?! You can't even go out, not even as a dog anymore?!" I asked incredulously. "Sirius, that's complete rubbish. I didn't even know you were the dog when you were a dog, how-"
He held up his hand, a signal to shut me up.
"At least you know what's going on," Harry muttered, still upset that he'd been kept in the dark for so long.
"Oh yeah! Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time," Sirius chided, rolling his eyes.
Before Harry or I could respond, I heard a clattering coming from the other end of the kitchen.
"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!"
Our heads snapped to the side as we saw a cauldron of soup, a loaf of bread, a flagon of butterbeer, and carafe of wine go skidding down the table at lightning speed. The soup skidded down the table, spilling broth, meat, and vegetables every few inches, the bread tumbling into the puddles. The carafe and flagon both fell to the floor and exploded on impact, and the breadknife was about to land in the middle of Sirius's hand until I reached across the table quickly and grabbed it haphazardly.
Harry and Sirius actually burst out laughing, Mundungus nearly fell over at the sight of the flying cauldron of soup, and I just sat there, glaring and shaking my head at Fred, trying my very best not to burst out laughing.
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley, who was not amused. "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"
"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, who gave me a guilty look when he saw the giant knife in my hands. "Sorry, Cass, are you alright?"
"You're really quite lucky I don't know how to throw this back at you, Fred Weasley," I snapped, slamming the knife down on the table. Harry and Sirius kept laughing, and it was kind of nice to see Harry actually crack a smile tonight.
"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs. Weasley said exasperatedly. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy —"
She stopped dead, giving Mr. Weasley a look. The tension was now more palpable than ever.
"Let's eat," Remus cut in finally, easing the tension. "Molly, this all looks wonderful."
Everyone turned their attention away from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and tucked into their food. Fred squeezed into the chair beside me, our hands brushing and fingers interlocking under the table. At the moment, all was well.
After an hour of everyone crowded around the table – Tonks changing her appearance every few seconds to show off to Hermione and Ginny, Mr. Weasley, Remus, and Sirius discussing goblin involvement in the war, and Fred and George listening to Mundungus tells stories of his life of petty crime - Mrs. Weasley yawned, a bit too loudly.
"About time for bed, I should think," she said, smiling softly at Mr. Weasley.
"Not quite yet, Molly," Sirius said, leaning back in his seat and staring Harry down. "I'm surprised at you, Harry. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."
At the mention of You-Know-Who's name, the atmosphere in the room shifted noticeably. Mrs. Weasley's soft smile faded. Remus turned to look at Sirius warningly. Harry looked like he was going to explode.
"I did!" said Harry, exploding. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so —"
"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley, her hands balled up in fists on the table. "You're too young."
"Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month," Sirius countered. He's got the right to know what's been happen —"
"Wait a minute, since when does he get his questions answered and we don't?!" George exclaimed accusingly at his mother. "We've been trying to get stuff out of you all month and you haven't told us a single thing!"
"George, I have no doubt that you and Fred have both been told plenty by-"
"I haven't told anyone anything," I snapped. I felt bad for snapping at her, but I was growing tired of being accused of things by people who didn't know me.
"It's not mine or Cass's fault that you don't know what's happening," said Sirius calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand —"
"It's not up to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes alight with rage. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"
"Which bit?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his chair defiantly.
"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," said Mrs. Weasley.
"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," said Sirius. "But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more of a right than most to —"
"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and —"
"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and more than some-"
"No one's denying what he's done!" said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising. "But he's still -"
"He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently.
"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. "He's not James, Sirius!"
Remus and Sirius both flinched when she said James's name. Even all these years later, Remus and Sirius weren't totally over the death of their best friend, Harry's dad.
"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius quietly.
"I'm not sure you are!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!" "
What's wrong with that?" said Harry.
"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"
At this moment, I wanted to make a comment about how the adults responsible might need a general reminder about caring for the wellbeing of the teenagers involved, but I didn't.
"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?
"Meaning you've been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and — Arthur, back me up!"
Mr. Weasley looked down at his lap, cleaning his glasses slowly. We waited for him to speak.
"Dumbledore knows the position has changed," he said tiredly. "He knows that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters —"
"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"
"Personally," said Remus, cutting in quietly again, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from . . . others."
Silence finally fell over the room. Fred squeezed my hand ever so slightly. Mrs. Weasley's face fell, resigned to the fact that she was outnumbered.
"Well, I can see I'm going to be overruled," she said. "I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart —"
"He's not your son," said Sirius quietly.
"He's as good as!" said Mrs. Weasley fiercely.
"He's got me!" Sirius exploded now.
"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley coldly, "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
I almost stood up from the table at that. That, even coming from Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to really care for Harry, was cruel.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Remus sharply. "I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this. He can decide for himself."
"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said at once, not looking at anyone but Remus and Sirius.
"Very well," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice cracking. "Ginny — Ron — Hermione — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."
"We're of age!" Fred and George bellowed together. I squeezed Fred's hand even tighter to make sure he didn't fly through the ceiling in a rage.
"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" countered Ron.
"Mum, I want to!" Ginny exclaimed.
"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "They're legally adults now."
Mrs. Weasley looked even more resigned now.
"Fred and George can stay," she said finally. "Everyone else-"
"You'll tell me and Hermione everything they say anyway!" said Ron hotly, looking over at Harry with pleading eyes. "Won't you?"
'Course I will," Harry said with a small smile at his friends.
"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"
Ginny did not go quietly, stomping up the stairs and muttering to herself angrily. I leaned back in my chair, giving Fred a small smile.
"Welcome to the madness," I whispered, giving his hand another squeeze and rubbing my thumb over his. He winked, the smirk playing across his lips making everything feel alright again.
After Ginny had finished stomping up the stairs, Remus stood up to quickly and quietly shut the door. When returned to his place at the table, Sirius finally spoke.
"Okay, Harry . . . what do you want to know?"
We filled Harry in on as much as we could – You-Know-Who's plans, the attack in the shop two weeks ago, and how Dumbledore is the one person that You-Know-Who was ever truly afraid of. I don't know how satisfied Harry was with our answers, but they were answers all the same.
When Sirius, Remus, Fred, George, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all headed up to bed, Harry and I remained at the kitchen table. After Fred gave me a kiss on the cheek goodnight, Mrs. Weasley almost told Harry and I to go to bed, both I could tell she thought better of it. I was grateful – I was tired of being told what to do for one day, and I was hoping I'd get to talk to Harry a little bit.
"So," I started, trying to think of what to talk about. "Do you feel any better after what we've told you?"
"Knowing what's going on helps," he said flatly, clearly unwilling to open up any more than that. However, I was persistent.
"Harry, I wanted to know-"
"Why do you get to live here?" he asked pointedly.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, considering how to phrase it to him.
"My parents are fairly well-connected to You-Know-Who's inner circle," I said slowly. "Fact is, they are his inner circle. Some people thought it best that I stay somewhere hidden in case they started hunting for blood traitors and the like. I've only had to fend off one attack, but that was plenty for me."
"Yeah, but why do you get to stay here?" he asked again. "You're Malfoy's sister. You're Lucius Malfoy's daughter. Why does anybody in this house trust you? Why do you get to live with-"
"It's because I'm Lucius Malfoy's daughter that I get to stay here," I snapped. "I'm shut up in here so that my own father doesn't try to murder me! You're not the only one with a price on their head, you know. And I know you're jealous that I get to stay here with your godfather-"
"I never said I was."
"You don't have to, Potter," I snapped again. "I'm sorry you have to live with your aunt and uncle, but Dumbledore has his reasons for that. I voiced my concerns to Sirius about you being alone after…after what happened in June, but Dumbledore seems to know best. While I disagree, I have to keep quiet in that regard."
Harry went quiet after that, awkwardly cleaning his glasses and averting my gaze. I couldn't help it; I understood where he was coming from, but he didn't get to lash out at anyone and everyone who didn't do exactly what he asked of them.
"I have nightmares about it, you know," he said quietly. "About the graveyard. Cedric and I arriving there, then Wormtail coming out of nowhere, and…and…"
He shook his head quickly, as if doing so would make the memory go away faster. I gave him a sympathetic smile.
"I have nightmares about it, too."
Suddenly, his head perked up.
"You do?"
"Not as frequently as when it first happened," I explained. "But I still have them. My boggart's actually his reanimated, waterlogged corpse, blaming me for his death."
Harry screwed up his face at the admission. Clearly, I'd overshared.
"Anyway, I have those nightmares about him too, and I want you to know that if you want or need to talk about what happened…you can talk to me. Cedric was one of my best friends, you know. I understand what it's like to lose him, and what that means going forward."
Harry's face was blank, his big, green eyes glistening a tiny bit. He reached under his glasses to wipe them with his shirt sleeve and shook his head again, his hair flopping in front of his forehead wildly.
"You're not like Malfoy at all, you know," he muttered. "It's hard to believe you're even related."
"Yeah, well, you've lived with your aunt and uncle for, what, fifteen years?" I asked. "And from what I've heard they're pretty miserable people. You're living proof that you don't have to end up like the people you're raised by."
He nodded, not meeting my gaze again. Even though we hadn't said too much to one another, I could tell he was grateful that someone took the time to ask how he was doing with everything.
"I think I'm off to bed," he muttered again, standing up quickly. "Thanks, Cass."
I looked up at him, giving him a genuine smile.
"You really can talk to me about anything, Potter," I said simply. "I hope you'll take me up on that. I just want you to know that you can trust me."
He blinked, taken aback, nodded, then turned out of the kitchen and disappeared from view.
After I knew he was gone, I leaned back in my chair, satisfied with our brief conversation. As much as everyone in the house claimed to care about Harry, no one had actually asked him how he was doing after the tournament. He'd seen and done and been through some things that none of us could ever dream of, and while he may not have trusted me completely, I thought he might appreciate talking to someone who was experiencing similar grief over the tournament, the return of You-Know-Who, and the loss of a student, fellow wizard, and friend.
Even though it didn't seem like it, I think that's all Harry really wanted. Someone to talk to.
Harry's Ministry hearing was scheduled for the twelfth of August – today.
The plan was that Mr. Weasley would bring him there, help him navigate the whole thing, then bring him straight home. In the days leading up to it, I could tell he was nervous, but he wouldn't let on.
In the days leading up to the hearing, I spent quite a bit of time in meetings, helping Fred and George formulate recipes for their Skiving Snackboxes, and preparing for the start of my own apprenticeship in three weeks. In Mr. Mulpepper's letter he sent me back in June, he requested that we have a short meeting with me to assess my skills and answer any questions before I began work on the first of September. While Mr. Weasley would accompany Harry to the Ministry, Tonks would accompany me to Diagon Alley. If, at the appointed hour, Mrs. Weasley's back was turned, Fred would sneak out along with us.
"What does one wear to meet their future employer?" I asked nervously, adjusting the cape of my robes, which were a mossy green with gold buttons. These robes once belonged to Andromeda, who tailored them to fit me since I hadn't had the chance to visit Madame Malkin's quite yet. After wearing Muggle clothes for so long, putting on robes felt unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable.
"You look fine the way you are," Tonks said, not looking up from her newspaper. "I don't honestly think I dressed up that much for my actual first day of work."
"Tonks, you didn't even look!"
"Alright!" she said, looking up, her eyes widening. "Merlin's beard, you're overdressed!"
"TONKS!"
"I'm joking, I'm joking! You look very professional," she said sweetly. "Very polished. Very 'I'm ready to be the best Potioneer's apprentice I can be.'"
"As gorgeous as you look," I heard a voice say from the door. "I don't think I'll ever dress up that much for work."
"What'll you wear when you own your own business, pray tell?" I asked Fred teasingly, sticking my tongue out at him. He smirked, then sauntered into the room. He stopped in front of me and reached out to adjust the buttons and clasps on my cape. Having him that close to me simultaneously put me at ease and made me want to pounce on him.
"You're going to brilliant today, love," he said, resting his hands on my shoulders. "What's he going to ask you to do, anyway? Brew a dozen things at once?"
"I'll probably have to brew something, but I dunno what," I said, turning back to the mirror and fidgeting with the buttons that Fred had just buttoned. "If it's something of my choosing, I might do the Sleeping Draught, those are always my strongest. But I also want to impress him, so I might go for something complex. Maybe the Wolfsbane Potion?"
"You know how to brew the Wolfsbane Potion?!" Tonks and Fred asked incredulously.
"Yes, but I don't even know if Mulpepper sells the ingredients," I mused, now stepping into 'overthinking and spiraling' territory. "I think I'll go with the Draught of Living Death. Complex and impressive, but still in a similar vein of the Sleeping Draught, which I know is a strong one for me."
Fred and Tonks exchanged looks.
"Glad you came to that conclusion, love," Tonks said with a grin. "Now come on! You're going to be late!"
After fussing with my robes again, Tonks, Fred, and I darted down the stairs, as everyone else was in the drawing room cleaning. We looked into the room to see Ron, Hermione, George, and Ginny dusting and wiping, all while Mrs. Weasley watched over them.
"Are we ready?" I asked Tonks.
She nodded, then held the door open as she, Fred, and I all slipped out, vanishing into the air the moment our feet touched the pavement.
THUD!
"C'mon, Cassie!" they both exclaimed, pulling me along toward Mulpepper's Apothecary. When we arrived in front of the shop with the purple and gold awning, I took a huge breath.
"Alright, time to meet my maker," I muttered.
"You mean your future boss?" Fred asked, poking me in the ribs. I rolled my eyes.
"Same difference," I muttered. "What're you going to do this whole time?"
He paused.
"Just walk around, I s'pose," he said casually, looking up and down the street. I knew there was something else on his mind, but I didn't dare ask.
"Right, well…I dunno, are you sure you don't want to just Apparate back? I really don't want you to get in trouble-"
"I'll do what I need to do here, then I promise I'll head back," he said, resting his hand on my shoulders once again. "I'm sure Tonks can handle getting you home on her own."
"Damn right I can," Tonks shot back, winking at Fred.
I turned back to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"I'll see you later then?"
He nodded, giving me a quick kiss on my forehead, his hands squeezing my shoulders ever so slightly.
"You'll be great," he said with a quick smile, before he and Tonks took off down the street in opposite directions. I turned back around to face the door of the shop, took a deep breath, and walked in.
A short ping! of a bell ringing filled the small shop, which was lined wall to wall with every single potion ingredient you could ever dream of. Lavender, valerian roots, dragon's blood, bat spleens, and vials of Pepper-Up Potion, Anti-Paralysis Potion, and the Antidote for Common Poisons. It was pure sensory overload, but I was thrilled to be surrounded by potions and potion ingredients once again.
All of a sudden, I heard the whoosh! of a curtain opening at the back of the shop. My head snapped forward to see a rail-thin, gaunt looking man in robes of deep purple standing before me. He had long, gray hair and high cheekbones, reminding me of the Grim Reaper. My entire body, which was just teeming with excitement, was now overcome with nerves.
"You must be Cassiopeia," he said, his voice smooth as silk. I was not expecting that sound to come out of this old, frail man's mouth.
"Yes-yes, I am," I stammered, trying to smile ever so slightly.
All of a sudden, the man's face broke into a grin.
"I have heard… such wonderful things about you, Miss Malfoy!" he said, striding over to me from behind the counter and extending his bony hand, which I shook lightly. "I'm Claudius Mulpepper. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape both have had nothing but exceptional things to say about you. You must know how pleased I am that you'll be apprenticing here with me."
I cocked my eyebrow in disbelief. Dumbledore and Snape?
"Oh!" I stammered again, trying to smile back at him. "Yes, that's really good to hear! Brilliant! I'm really quite honored to be working for you, sir, it's really my dream to be a Potioneer-"
"And from what I understand, you possess more than a little talent for a witch your age, no?" he asked again, his gray brows knitting together on his wrinkled forehead. "I must say, from what Severus had written to me, I was quite concerned that you'd be snapped up by one of my competitors, but I got you! I think you'll do rather well here, my dear, and if it's a Potioneer you wish to be, then I assure you, we'll help you on your way to the dream."
My head was now spinning. Once again, I found it incredibly hard to believe that Snape was saying any measure of positive things about me, but I had no reason to believe that this old man would lie to me. I nodded and smiled, going along with it.
"Right then!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "I really would like to see you brew something for me, my dear, just so I can see for myself what sort of level you're at with your brewing skills. Is that alright with you?"
I nodded, the smile growing wider on my face. This was it.
"Of course, sir, I'd really like that," I said quickly. "Anything you'd like me to brew in particular?"
"Oh, no! Any draught of your choosing, really. I won't put you to work on brewing for inventory for another few weeks," he chuckled.
I nodded, glancing around the shop again. Infusion of Wormwood, Root of Asphodel, sloth brain, Valerian root…he's got pretty much everything.
I turned back and smiled, my brain already teeming with what I was about to do.
"I don't see any sopophorous beans, sir. Do you happen to have any of those on hand?"
After an hour and a half of brewing, cutting, stirring, and crushing, I had successfully brewed the Draught of Living Death. When I was done, Mulpepper came over to my cauldron, dropping a single leaf inside. The leaf crumbled and disintegrated on impact, lilac smoke billowing from the top of the cauldron.
"My dear, it is perfect!" he exclaimed, his ice-blue eyes wide. "I don't think I've seen a draught of Living Death this perfect in…well, since before you were born, I should think!"
I beamed. "Thank you, sir, Sleeping Draughts are usually what I'm best at, but I've had quite a bit of practice with the Draught of Living Death this year."
"I must ask, my dear, where did you learn to crush the sopophorous bean instead of cutting it?" he asked. "I know Borage writes to cut it with the dagger, but-"
"It was in the margins of my copy of Borage's book," I finished quickly. "I guess a potionmaker before my time found that it worked better. I tried it myself and I've never done it any other way."
He raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.
"Well, sometimes we learn in potionmaking that we may need to alter the recipes a bit, and in some cases, much like this one, that is quite alright!" he said, clapping his hands once again. "Do you have any questions for me, my dear? Anything I can do to put you at ease before we start on the first of September?"
I shook my head. This day alone had taught me that I was going to do just fine here, and that made all the difference in the world.
"Very well, then. I will ask that you pick up robes from Madame Malkin's shop before your first day," Mulpepper said, scribbling on a small piece of parchment before handing it to me. "Bring this note to her whenever you go. She'll know exactly what you need."
"Thank you, sir," I said cheerfully, trying to read what the old man's scrawl said. "I suppose I'll see you on the first, then?"
"I suppose you will," he said with another warm smile.
Satisfied, I turned on my heel and headed for the door, the cape of my robes billowing out slightly behind me. The first of September really couldn't come fast enough.
THUD!
"You're going to have to tell me all about it later," Tonks said. "I've got to head back to work, but I'll see you at the meeting?"
I nodded, then opened up the door to Number Twelve, where I was met with commotion of all sorts. Fred, George, and Ginny all dancing and hollering on the stairs, Ron and Hermione wrapping Harry up in a hug, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking quietly in the hallway, eyeing me as I walked in.
"What's happened?" I asked slowly. "Harry, how was it?"
He beamed, the sheepish smile from the other night replaced by one that took up his entire face.
"Cleared of all charges."
"WHAT?" I bellowed, now smiling just as wide. "That's brilliant! Harry, congratulations, really. I knew you'd be able to convince them!"
"Thanks," he said, allowing me to give him a sort of half-hug. On the second floor, I could see Fred leaning over the railing to smile at me.
"How was it? You coming up?" he bellowed.
"Not quite yet," Mr. Weasley cut in gravely. "Cass, we need to speak to you. Kitchen. Now."
My face fell. I gulped, my excitement and enthusiasm having just been squeezed out of me unexpectedly. I followed the Weasley parents into the kitchen, where the three of us sat down at the table. I had never been alone with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and I wasn't sure I'd like what was about to happen.
"What's happened?" I asked slowly, unsure of why we were in here in the first place.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged looks. Mr. Weasley looked concerned, but Mrs. Weasley just looked flat-out angry. That scared me.
"Cass…when we were leaving the Ministry, after the hearing," Mr. Weasley began carefully, "we saw your father. We…well, we had words."
I stared blankly at the two flame-haired adults before me. I hadn't seen or spoken to my father in almost a year. Why were they telling me they saw him?
"What sort of words?" I asked. "I can't imagine he said anything pleasant, as my father is the least pleasant person I know, but-"
"He knows."
My stomach dropped. I could feel the color draining from my face and my fingers and toes were all fuzzy. Knew what? Did my father know where I was? Was he coming for me? Plotting to break into Grimmauld Place and hurt me the same way he hurt Mrs. Weasley's friend?
"He-he knows? What does he know?"
"Your father," Mr. Weasley continued gravely, his face shifting from concerned to flat-out fearful, "knows about you and our son. He knows about you and Fred."
Now, my vision was fuzzy. I was in denial about it. There was no way.
"No, no, no," I said, my voice shaking. "Mr. Weasley, I haven't spoken to my father in well over a year, if you think I've been in contact with him, you're mistaken. I couldn't have, and I would never have, told him about Freddie-"
"I'm not saying you did," Mr. Weasley interjected. "When Harry and I were leaving the Wizengamot's chambers, we saw your father. Made some snide comments about Harry in front of the minister, I tried to brush them off. Then, after the minister walked away, he said 'it would be a shame, Arthur, if any harm were to come to any other members of your family. Your children, perhaps?''
I hung my head and covered my face with my hands. This wasn't happening. How the bloody hell did he know?
"Naturally, I asked him what he meant, and he said…well, he said 'you think I don't know about my daughter and your son?'"
Silence after that. I didn't even know what to say, where to begin, where to even go from here. My eyes darted from Mr. Weasley to Mrs. Weasley and back.
"Did…did he say anything else?" I asked stupidly.
"Just that it wasn't surprising that his daughter fell in with a family like ours," he continued, trying to seem unaffected by my father's words. "And that he'd hate to see anything happen to you because of her association with…well, with people like us."
I scoffed.
"If anything were to happen to me, it would be my father's doing," I snapped. "I'm shut up in this house because the Order thinks he wants me dead!"
"And now our son is involved, so we have to get involved," Mr. Weasley said again, trying to keep the conversation flowing so that his wife and I didn't get into it. "We've called an emergency meeting to discuss with the Order what to do from here. While You-Know-Who's and his followers are keeping a low profile, it won't be that way forever, and we need to come up-"
Suddenly, the front door opened and footsteps came striding quickly down the hall, footsteps belonging to Snape. When he saw who was sitting around the table, his expression hardened.
"Molly. Arthur. Miss Malfoy," he drawled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this…emergency meeting?"
"Severus, I've just run into Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry, after Harry's hearing," Mr. Weasley explained. "It seems that Lucius is aware of Cass's relationship with our son, and that concerns us. If Cass is a person of interest to the Death Eaters, and if she's involved with our son, then we need to figure out what to do."
Snape's expression remained hard, his eyes darting from Mr. Weasley to me and back. He didn't respond, and he looked…he looked like he'd expected Mr. Weasley to say exactly that.
"You," I whispered, seething, my eyes boring into Snape's.
"Arthur, I must-"
"YOU!" I exploded, jumping out of my seat and lunging across the table for Snape. "IT WAS YOU! YOU KNEW! YOU KNEW AND YOU TOLD HIM! I KNOW YOU DID!"
"Cassie, please!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, grabbing my arms and shoving me back down to my chair. "Severus, are you sure you haven't given Lucius any information regarding his daughter? Any at all?"
"It was Miss Malfoy's brother that told Lucius of her…closeness to your son," Snape explained, his expression unchanged. "When Lucius asked me whether it was true, I confirmed it to him."
"HOW DARE YOU?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, standing up from the table, fists shaking. "YOU ARE MY SON'S TEACHER! HOW DARE YOU FEED INFORMATION ABOUT HIM TO DEATH EATERS! I don't care who he's involved with, Severus, you had no right to tell that man anything about my child – or any of my children, for that matter!"
"Molly, regardless of whether you believe it, your son is of little importance to the Dark Lord and, by extension, Lucius Malfoy," Snape said. "It's his daughter he wants."
"If he's not important, then why are you talking my father about him?!" I snapped.
"Believe me, if Fred Weasley wasn't involved with a sniveling, selfish, opinionated brat such as yourself, Miss Malfoy, I would've said nothing," he sneered, his lip curling over the words.
I was fuming. First my brother blabs to our father about my relationship, and now Snape admits he's feeding information to my father about my life. What else had he said? At this point, I didn't believe that he wasn't telling him other things about me.
"What else have you told him?" I asked sharply.
"I've told him nothing else," Snape replied.
"I don't believe you!" I exclaimed, my eyes burning with tears. I wanted to strangle Snape right now, but Mr. Weasley would make sure that cooler heads prevailed. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley's hand was firmly in her pocket, on her wand, in the event she needed to curse Snape into oblivion.
"Miss Malfoy, clearly there are a great many things you don't understand-"
"Oh, I understand enough!" I said. "I understand that you're telling my father things about me that could get me or the people I care for killed. I understand that my father's antagonizing Harry-"
"Spending time with Mr. Potter, have you?" he sneered again, his dark eyes now filled with rage. "Mr. Potter doesn't need any more help in the sniveling, selfish, brat department, especially from you-"
"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!" I screamed, my cheeks on fire with the fact that I had just shouted at a former teacher. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's eyes were on me. So were Snape's.
"Don't talk about him like that," I said quickly. "You don't get to talk about him like that. You have no right to talk to my father about me, or about Fred, and you have no right to be as hideous as you are to Harry."
"If it were up to me, Mr. Potter would-"
"For someone who claims to be on our side, you've done absolutely nothing to prove it," I snapped. "You've only proven that you shouldn't be trusted and you care for no one else's neck but your own. I know Dumbledore would tell me that I need to trust you, but I won't stand here and listen to you make excuses for why I should give a damn about anything you say. Not after you've just put me and someone I love in unnecessary danger."
I caught myself, trying to catch my breath and steady myself. My mind was spinning and tears were rolling down my cheeks ever so slightly. Snape just glared at me, probably cursing me over and over in his head. He didn't say another word. He simply turned on his heel and headed toward the door, slamming it behind him.
When he was gone, I took off past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley toward the stairs, the tears now spilling down my cheeks at break-neck pace. When I reached the first steps, I heard hooting and hollering from above. There, crowded around an Extendable Ear, were Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, and even Sirius, who'd clearly heard everything I'd just said to Snape.
"YEAH, MALFOY!" Ginny hollered.
"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND!" Fred cheered with a wink.
"GIVE IT TO HIM, CASS!" Ron chanted, paying no attention to Hermione's disapproving looks.
"You lot better get back to your rooms before your mum finds out you were listening," I said through my tears.
"She already knows," Mrs. Weasley said behind me.
I whipped around to see the Weasley matriarch standing on the steps below me, hands in the pockets of her apron, her face much calmer than it was five minutes ago.
"Everyone, in their rooms!" she bellowed at her children. "Cass, might I have a word?"
I gulped, then nodded.
"You…you defended my son – both my sons – in there when your own reputation with your father, and the Ministry, are at stake. I want to thank you for that."
I gulped again. Of all the things I thought she would say to me, I didn't think she'd say that.
"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," I managed to stammer. "I'd do it for them, both of them, any day, war or no war."
"Yes, well, I wouldn't expect you to know this, but Severus and Harry's father didn't get along in school. That's why he's so-"
"That's why I did it," I cut in, giving a small shrug. "'The sins of the father shall not be visited upon the son,' right?"
She blinked, taken aback that I brought that up again, but nodded.
"Besides, Mrs. Weasley…I saw the way you went up against everyone for Harry the night he arrived," I continued. "You defend him the way I wish my own mother would've defended me. I admire that about you."
She nodded again quickly, clearly at a loss for words, which was also unexpected. Before she turned away to head back down to the kitchen, I could've sworn I saw a small, grateful smile playing across her lips. But I must've imagined it. I must have.